


Five plus One

by suicidein_angeleyes



Category: Lost Girl (TV)
Genre: F/M, Five Times, shameless excuse to write my ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:35:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22291921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suicidein_angeleyes/pseuds/suicidein_angeleyes
Summary: Five times Dyson is reminded that Kenzi is painfully human, and the time she proved again that humanity is not a weakness.
Relationships: Dyson & Kenzi (Lost Girl), Dyson/Kenzi (Lost Girl)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 114





	Five plus One

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing and have a lot more time on my hands than anyone should. No beta so all mistakes are my own and have no one to blame but myself for the rewatch the brought this to life.

_ Five times Dyson is reminded that Kenzi is painfully human, and the time she proved again that humanity is not a weakness.  _

i.

“Ow, ow, shit, ow, fuck,” a breath pulls from the human as Dyson lifts her up the last few steps to get them into the Crack Shack. His hand at her waist wraps most of the way around, and the scent of her blood just reminds him how fragile she is. The blood that had, until recently been dripping steadily and freely from a wound on her thigh, deep but not deadly. Lauren had cleaned and treated the wound, made sure nothing fae would come back to bite them in the ass, and Dyson offered to bring Kenzi home while Lauren offered to help Bo heal. Tamsin was there to help, but she had also turned on a heel when it was said and done to find a drink. 

A hiss pushes through her teeth as Dyson lowers her to the couch, leg stiff with the bandages secured there. “Shit, man. Bobo’s got the right idea with the good old fashioned sexual healing. I’d appreciate Doctor Sugar Snatch a whole lot more if I weren’t sitting here waiting for human healing to do its damn job.” She swears again, head tipped back and Dyson offers a huff as he moves into the kitchen to find a water bottle as Kenzi drops her head back on the arm of the couch. “We’ve got something stronger than water in there, D-Man and I’m pretty sure we all deserve it.”

Dyson’s head shakes easily, checking in the empty fridge before drawing a phone from his pocket to order pizza. “How about you try first for water and food, and we’ll see about anything that’s going to make it harder for you to walk.”

Lips purse in a slow pout as she considers him, those impossibly blue eyes narrowed in intense and rapt consideration. He finds himself caught up in them for long moments. He’s never met another fae with color quite like hers, let alone a human and it's captivating. It’s odd to see her in the loose, borrowed sweatpants, her own tight jeans having needed to be cut off with no shortage of complaints about the unfair state of the world and multiple promises to buy her more, though the boots had been saved and Kenzi had relaxed a little at that. But, she looks smaller like that, in the oversized pants, normal corset removed and her hair tied back. It takes him back to the basilisk venom, and he’s forced to shake off the unpleasant memories and the intense fear of losing her to something that had already killed fae.

But Kenzi was a fighter, through and through.

An eventual sigh pulls from her, dropping a dramatic hand to wave for the water bottle to be placed in it. "Are you ordering pizza?" He nods, brows lifting. “Extra cheese?”

“Would I dare bring anything else into your house?” 

“Stuffed crust?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A hum dismisses him with approval, and his head ducks to hide the smile as he turns to make the call. 

  
  


…

  
  


The sun is coming up when Bo returns, light breaking through the places where the walls aren’t quite solid. Her boots connect with the floor, harder than she’d intended, and Dyson’s head shoots up. He’s reclined in one corner of the couch, a leg drawn up along the back, and Kenzi is curled against his chest, injured leg propped up over his as his hand fits at her side. Even asleep he’d kept her close, thumb stroking her ribs in rhythmic motions. 

“I didn’t mean to sleep,” his voice is gruff and low, shifting just slightly to sit up further, hand at her side to keep from disturbing her more than necessary, though she still grumbles in her sleep. “I should put her to bed.”

Bo’s head shakes, hands held out as he does. “No, don’t do that,” her head shakes as Dyson freezes, lips twisting as she explains. “She doesn’t normally sleep so soundly without a bottle of wine involved. Not after,” a breath pulls from her, head shaking. “After the kitsune. Normally I’d have woken her up by now,” Bo sighs, lips pressing together as she runs a hand through her hair. “I know I have no right to ask you this, but I haven’t seen her sleep so soundly in a while, and if you could stay…?”

“It’s fine, Bo. I’ll stay. You can rest easy.” 

She smiles a little uncomfortably, but it’s grateful and she nods, moving slowly up the stairs to her room. Dyson sighs slowly, shifting back to lay back against the arm of the couch. Kenzi shifts with him, mumbling something as she rubs her cheek against his chest. Breath is held for long moments as she settles again and his hand returns to its place at her side, curling around her waist. 

“You should be dead a hundred times over,” his voice is low, nearly a whisper in the dark with the press of his hand at her side. Feeling how fragile she is, even as he listens to the steady beat of her heart. “You’re stupidly brave for someone so fragile. So breakable. But you’ve never given up on us,” he breathes out slowly, feeling her settle. He does as well, tucking his nose into her hair to breathe in slowly. “Don’t ever change.” Though, part of that worries him, because she puts herself between the fae and danger far more often than she should, and eventually that luck is bound to run out.

A few scars are just reminders, and most of them would fade. Death didn’t fade.

  
  
  


ii.

  
  


“Kenzi!” 

Dyson’s voice rings out across the room, claws digging into the chest of what seems to be one of an endless stream of underfae with a snarl, ripping through bones and muscle to whatever passes beneath it as a heart. The sound of her name lets her duck, just barely in time to miss the swipe of claws that would have taken off her head. But it’s not fast enough to avoid the backhand that throws her into a wall with a sickening crack.

Bo is there, gripping the underfae to thrust her sword through his chest before dropping him to the side and reaching Kenzi as Dyson does, crouching over her crumpled form. The human groans, hand to her head as she tries to sit up. Hands on her shoulders keep her from completing the motion and her hand comes away with blood. 

“Shit, man. Is it just me, or did we double the trouble with fae tonight?” She breathes through her teeth with a hiss, those pale, pale eyes narrowing to attempt to focus on the blood that came away on her fingers. Her gaze narrows on Bo for a moment. “Stop that. Now there’s three of you, and the D-Man keeps fading in and out, and then there’s two of him, and I really can’t handle that right now, Bobo. Double the wolfman, who keeps going in and out and then back to two?”

Tamsin gives a huff from behind them, though she’s pacing behind Bo and Dyson, chewing on her thumbnail nervously as she does. “Not to rush along the kinky orgy here, but there are more of those things coming, and right now the only advantage we have is the element of surprise.”

Bo frowns to look at Dyson, swallowing but he speaks before she can voice her question. “I’ll get her home. You and Tamsin go. Cut off the next wave. She’s safe with me,” Dyson nods and it’s returned. She moves to her feet and Dyson shifts to pick Kenzi up carefully, letting her curl into his chest with a sigh. “Stay awake, Kenzi. It’s going to be a long night. You might have a concussion.” 

A huff pulls from her, attempting to shake her head but the motion makes her eyes scrunch up in pain, hissing air out between her teeth. The agreement that pulls from her is weak, barely a hum as her eyes squeeze shut, gripping into his vest with white-knuckled fingers. 

“No sleep,” it’s a gentle reminder as her head lolls back in the seat of his car as she settles in carefully, blinking at him slowly with somewhat glazed blue eyes. “Not until we can get you checked over.”

“N-no sleep. Won’t sleep.”

He makes an executive decision to go back to his loft, because Bo’s going to need to heal when they’re done, and he’s not inclined to sit through that. He calls Lauren while he drives, offering a huff of a laugh at the whined complaint barely voiced from the passenger seat of the car. “You can sleep once Lauren clears you.” Her gaze is already clearer, and she takes a deep breath to swallow. Dyson can hear it, listening to the steady, if a little too fast beat of her heart behind her ribs. 

“Not my first rodeo, cowboy. Cow wolf? Were Vikings like, the Celtic version of cowboys, D-man?” 

He hides a smile at her rambling words, head shaking a bit. “I’m not sure about that. Ragnar Lockbroth would’ve eaten Billy the Kid alive.” And not just because many of the original Viking warriors had been fae in their own time. 

Kenzi hums softly, smiling curling her lips as she makes the effort to keep her eyes open and on the road. “Wouldn’t be surprised. But, you should know that my injury isn’t going to prevent me from going through all your stuff. All those secret drawers and the kinky sex stuff even Bobo didn’t know about.”

“And to think,” his tone is deadpan, not looking away from the road as he draws the car to a stop and shifting into park before he looks over her seriously. “I left the sex swing right out in the open. It won’t even be a challenge for you.” 

Those blue, blue eyes are wide on him, incredulous for long moments as he climbs out of the car. The glare continues after him as he moves around the front of the car to open the door on her side. “I must really be concussed. The wolfman’s got jokes.” But, she’s mostly steady as she climbs to her feet, gripping his arm for a second as she considers the building in front of them. “This is so House of Wax chic, D-Man. There’s real potential here.”

A chuff pulls from him, keeping a hand on her back as they move to the loft. “Well, I do constantly strive for your approval.”

“You joke, but approval from the Kenz is important. I can see it,” she nods seriously to tap a finger against her temple lightly, letting out a breath as she sighs and leaning just slightly into Dyson’s side as they get to the door, letting out a breath as she does. It shouldn’t be so exhausting just walking up the stairs, but her head aches and even though the bleeding has stopped, she feels gritty and dirty. 

Blue eyes study the interior of the room with a sharp intensity when they enter. Noting entrances and exits, taking in each corner of the room with attention to detail that cop might use at a crime scene. But, it’s attention born from a lifetime of being forced to live on her own, rather than police or battle training. Or, a different kind of battle training than Dyson had endured through his youth, though no less intense or serious. Preparation for a different kind of war. And, he has to consciously remind himself that no matter what he might remember, she hasn’t actually been there before. Her intense scrutiny is her first time there, and it’s all-new territory for her. 

A hand stays at her waist to get inside, moving her to the couch. She allows him to sit her down, dropping back sit a sigh that lacks grace. She doesn’t argue the water bottle handed to her, but she doesn’t get as much time to explore as she would like. Lauren is there, examining her carefully. Shining light in her eyes and taking vitals until Kenzi is shifting with the temptation to shove away from her and the examination. 

“Dude, I’m fine. Everything’s in working order, alright?”

The look Lauren gives her is patient and experienced, watching her with a slight frown. “Kenzi, you’ve had a serious head injury and you’re still shaking.”

“I’m Russian, we shake,” her eyes are wide, and Dyson resist the urge to snort from his position in the kitchen. He doesn’t manage quite enough as Kenzi shoots him a glare. “Seriously. I can walk, I can talk, and I’ve got a wolf shaped man nurse to keep me company. It’s a concussion. I need to rest, drink plenty of water, and avoid screens.”

Lauren’s eyes consider her with a sigh. “Well, she’s not wrong,” the serious gaze turns on Dyson. “If she shows any signs of slurred speech, seizures, numbness on one side of her body, you’ll call?”

“You first and Tamsin if you’re otherwise occupied,” he nods easily, moving to the couch to set a grilled cheese sandwich on the arm of the couch beside her. “We even provide meals that aren’t sugar-laden cereal.” 

A breath pulls from Lauren, nodding as she stands to gather her supplies. “I’d prefer to see something with vegetables, but something lacking artificial coloring has potential,” she takes a deep breath, nodding between them as she does. “Don’t hesitate to call if anything seems off. Head injuries can sneak up on you.”

“I am  _ fine _ Doctor Good Love,” Kenzi’s hands spread, reaching for the sandwich to take a large and clearly exaggerated bite. “Go work that mojo on Bobo. I know you’re dying to get over there. Tell Bo I’m fine, and by the time she sees me again, I’ll be good as new and ready to take on whatever fae asshole tries to destroy the city next time.” 

She salutes, and Lauren lets out another breath as she nods. “Call me if you need me.” Another nod that Dyson returns and Lauren’s gone with her bag. Kenzi sighs as the door closes behind her, slumping back into the couch, and Dyson moves to find another bottle of water and bring it back to her as he sits next to her. 

It says something that she takes it without argument, breathing out slowly as she does. “You know, I’m not fae,” a hand waves, wrist so, so thin and Dyson can’t resist wrapping a hand around her to allow her forearm to rest against his palm. Pale eyes follow the motion, but she doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t seem bothered at all by the touch in fact. “If things go south, you can really just take me to a hospital.”

“Nothing’s going to go south,” he releases her wrists, thumb stroking the inside of her soft skin for long moments as he does wrapping the arm around her shoulders. Rubbing his hand slowly up her arm to notice that she is shivering a little and tugging her lightly into his side. She doesn’t argue, leaning into the warmth as she picks apart the last half of her sandwich. “We’ll take care of you, Kenzi. You’re family. We will always take care of you.”

Her gaze flicks over him, lips pressed together for long moments as she smiles, letting herself press to his shoulder, mascara thick lashes creating dark, arching smudges on her cheeks. “I can’t watch TV. Tell me a story. Something with Vikings. Tell me about the wild days.”

He thinks slowly, head tipped to breathe into her hair slowly. Memorizing that scent, a scent almost more familiar to him than Bo’s. Taking comfort in that, and the way she has already infused herself into his space. “You know I once ran with a pack in service of our king,” his brows lift and she nods slowly against his shoulder. “Well, we were sent out on missions often, and often over long distances. We were young, and left irresponsibly to our own devices and traveling took far more time.”

“Did ya’ do a lot of howlin’ at the moon?”

“More than I should admit to with any shred of dignity.” He’ll admit that with a soft chuckle, even as she laughs against him. Maybe he should be more ashamed to tell her a story like this. A story of ancient warriors behaving like frat boys, but he’s found he doesn’t mind as much. Not when she’s laughing quietly, sleepily with the depictions of the trouble they had gotten themselves into in the middle of the Scottish Highlands. 

Kenzi’s asleep before he’s gotten through a particularly racy story about an orgy with an especially creative group of tree nymphs, and he shifts her from the couch to his bed. She barely moves as he pulls her boots off, only grumbling a little as he wrestles her out of the fashion corset around her already ridiculously tiny waist, curled up in his bed. A hand brushes over her hair, letting out a breath as he leans down to press his lips to her forehead, cupping her cheek for a moment before he stands and moves away. The sight of her in his bed draws on something in his chest, torn between how painfully, breakably human she is, and something else. Something he’s not sure he knows how to identify. Or, not willing to think too hard about, because the implications could be dangerous. 

…

iii

Kenzi Malikov is wise, well beyond her years. Wiser than many fae Dyson has known who’ve seen civilizations build and destroy themselves. And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to forget that she has seen just more than two decades on the Earth. A millennial, who uses ridiculous nicknames and gives him hell when he doesn’t respond to her emojis with more emojis. 

So while she might be wise well beyond her years, she’s younger than he has any right to even glance at twice. And yet, he is. Gaze drawn over the lines of her legs as she leans over the pool table, hips shifting slowly and deliberately as she lines up a shot. Focus sharp and pointed as raven dark hair falls over a shoulder. 

Shot sunk, the human’s hands lift to step victorious from the table, crowing her victory with a laugh. 

Hale’s fist connects with his shoulder easily as another beer slides in front of him. “You don’t want everybody knowing you’ve got a thing for the Lil mama, you might want to stop with the moon eyes every time you catch her scent.” His brows lift at the immediately affronted look Dyson offers him, and the siren laughs easily. “Man, you can’t even try to deny that. I  _ know you _ , Dyson. I know that look you get when you’ve got it bad. And you sir, you have it bad.”

“Shut up, Hale,” his voice is a low growl, taking a large swallow from his beer. “She’s Kenzi. Fragile, human,  _ Bo’s best friend _ Kenzi,” Brave and loyal and more than any of them could possibly deserve, Kenzi. “I’m not blind, but you and I both know that’s trouble.”

Kenzi’s victory dance involves an intricate dance that Dyson can’t begin to follow, and if anyone were to ask, the intensity of his gaze could be blamed purely on concern that she was going to break an ankle in those damn shoes. But Hale isn’t wrong. Dyson can pick out the human’s scent in a crowd without having to think about it, her voice crystal clear across a room. Hale sighs at his expression, leaning in to knock his shoulder against his own. “If you wanna play it cool, you’re gonna have to do better than that, man. Look alive.” 

It’s about all the warning he gets before Kenzi drapes herself against the bar between them. “Well if it’s not wolfman and the voice. Are we drinking all alone?”

“Seems more like your gig tonight Lil’ mama.” Hale’s brows lift at her with a glance around that Dyson follows. 

“No Bo?” Dyson speaks up, and he can see Kenzi’s expression sour a little before her head shakes easily, letting out a quiet laugh. 

Black rimmed blue eyes focus on him, looking so wide with thick lashes as they roll, head shaking. “Boalicious is off doing her Succubus  _ thang _ , getting that boo-tay,” she makes a shimmying motion with her hands that manages to roll her whole body, offering a grin to Trick before she nods across the room. Now that he’s looking, he can spot Bo, the warm glow of her hand, a familiar glow and Dyson glances away. A hum pulls from the human, brows lifting as she does. “Yeah. Doccubus date night cut out early so Bobo could have a bite.”

Hale snorts, incredulous and amused. “Doccubus?”

“Um,  _ hello _ . Doctor and Succubus?” Blue eyes roll slowly to sigh, lips pressed together as she does. “Even with the will they-won’t they open relationship they have going, they’re still not as interesting as Kimye. But it's looking like there’s going to be an orgy at the clubhouse tonight. You guys are closing this place down with me, right? It’s been a while since I drunk wandered the park until dawn.”

“ _ Actually _ ,” Hale draws the word out easily, sucking in a breath as he directs his gaze across the room to nod. “I am going to see about those fine ladies, and how they might want to spend an evening. You two, have some fun,” He winks with a tip of his fedora in their direction, and then Dyson is alone with her. 

Those eyes fall on him, clear and bright and blue as she looks at him. “And what about you, wolfman? You won’t leave the human to drink alone, will you?” 

He debates, letting out a breath as he watches her. “Or you could spend the night at the loft. I would hate to feel obligated to arrest you for public intoxication for wandering the park drunk as the sun comes up.” 

The wolf watches her gaze narrow on him, consideration of the offer and his words. Again, he’s forced to consider how young she is, and things in life that have put that look on her face. “Buy me another drink, D-Man. We’ve got some drinking time before watching Wandersnatch get her fae on becomes absolutely necessary to avoid.” 

…

Dyson has seen Kenzi drunk, but not quite this drunk. His arm wrapped around her waist keeps her upright as she slurs in Russian. He only catches the occasional word, barely intelligible before she tosses a hand up in celebration. 

“D-Man, we should get some champagne. At least some wine. Something bubbly,” the arm not wrapped around Dyson is waving in the air like she’s reaching for a bottle as he manages her weight to lift her up the steps and into his loft. 

“I think we’ve had quite enough to drink, Kenzi. Even with the impressive skills of a Russian liver, you are drunk.” 

Words draw a snort from the human as she allows herself to be deposited on his couch. “Uh, so are you, Mister whiskers,” and that’s a new one, but Dyson allows it, moving into his kitchen to find water bottles. And, somewhat reluctantly a bottle of something with bubbles that’s been in his fridge for longer than it’s probably good. “And, besides, I am safe right here with you, so why shouldn’t we drink more?”

“I think the human term is alcohol poisoning,” Kenzi’s yes roll shamelessly, nose wrinkling at him. The wine is shown to her, but he pulls it away and replaces it with water. “Water first, little fighter. I wasn’t kidding about the alcohol poisoning.” 

Big blue eyes roll at him with a sigh, but she takes the water, gaze on him as she cracks it open and proceeds to chug the entire thing. Dyson meets her gaze the entire time, brows lifted just slightly as she finished the bottle and chucks it at him. “Wine me, wolfman.”

He nods easily, handing over the bottle, and she takes it to twist the top off with a bright smile in his direction. Dyson rests a hand on her hair before moving to get up. Kenzi catches his hand, pulling until he sighs and sits next to her on the couch. 

“Don’t make me drink this alone. I won’t tell anybody you drank bubbly wine with the token human.” She pats his thigh, leaning into his side as she offers him the bottle. He accepts but doesn’t drink, watching the petite human as she lays her hand flat against his, so tiny compared to him. Her hand stretches, flexing a little to lay flat, her palm dwarfed by his, slender fingers only come to his second knuckle, and then just barely. 

“You’re not the token human,” the words come slowly, shifting a little to let Kenzi’s fingers lace through his, closing his large hand around her own as she accepts the bottle back with her other. She snorts a little, shoulders rolling and his head shakes, squeezing her fingers around his own. “You’re not, Kenzi. A token human is a pet someone keeps to look powerful, or for a snack,” he lets out a breath, head shaking as she looks at him curiously. “We don’t keep token humans like you. You are a warrior, Kenzi Malikov. You’re braver than most of the fae I’ve met.” His hand taps under her chin lightly, and those bright eyes meet his. 

It’s not a conscious thought, leaning into her. The fingers tucked under her chin shift to cup her cheek, and if he were more sober, he’d mock himself for his surprise that she manages to taste like good vodka, even when they’d been drinking whiskey and wine. The kiss is light, quietly gentle, though it’s not a conscious motion, not because Kenzi’s human and so, so breakable beneath his hands. With her hand gripping his between them, squeezing slowly as a growl bubbles from his chest, just barely as her lips part to allow him to deepen the kiss, it just is. 

Fingers grip his shoulder, curling in his shirt as she tugs closer against him. It’s a sinfully graceful movement that throws her leg over his lap, settling her weight against him, fingers untangling from each other, finding purchase with his on her hips and hers on his cheeks, pressing closer.

It’s hot, heat building steadily between them before the forgotten, chilled bottle of wine spills between them. The glass itself is shocking in the change of temperature, even before the shock of the liquid has them nearly jumping apart and it clatters to the floor. 

“Shit,” Kenzi swears, shaking wine off her hands as Dyson reaches for the bottle to stop the pour of liquid on the floor. “Oh. Shit mother of making out with the fae. I should… I should go home, and I will just deal with Bo getting her magisnatch on and sober Kenz will remind drunk Kenz why macking on the bestie’s ex-man candy is against girl code and boy code and general Kenz code, and, and.”

Dyson’s stood while she ranted, catching the waving hands until she looks at him to take a deep breath. “Go take a shower. Borrow some clothes. Drink some water and you can sleep it off in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

For a moment the look in blue eyes could pierce holes in him, but she relents. “Being reasonable doesn’t get you out of talking about bro code violations when sober Kenz can think properly again.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” an unsteady hand points between her eyes and his face as he speaks before she steps back. Dyson nods anyway, brows lifting. “Shower’s that way. I’ll put clothes outside the door.” Kenzi just nods again slowly, stepping back to turn from him after a moment and heading to the bathroom. She throws another glance at Dyson over her shoulder before disappearing beyond the bathroom’s door, one of the few solid walls in the place. He can still hear her, cursing to herself quietly in Russian. He finds an old tee-shirt and sweats that she’ll have to clinch at her hips but should fit at least somewhat. 

There’s a flash of Imari in the loft, in nothing but one of his button-down shirts and he has to shake it away. It wasn’t Kenzi, it had never been Kenzi, but the scent of her blood at cloyed his nose, his senses, everything. He forces the thought away, shoves it deep, deep down in his chest where he puts things he refuses to think about, and sets the clothes outside the bathroom and goes to clean up the spilled wine. He sees a peak of Kenzi as she opens the bathroom with a billow of steam to take the clothes, while he takes a pillow from his bed. 

“You don’t have to do that.” Her voice surprises him a few minutes later and he turns to look at her. She’s squeezing water from her hair with a towel, dressed in the tee-shirt and sweats, looking at him with a frown. “Take the couch, you know? And sober Kenzi gets to deny saying this, but I…” She sighs, shoulders rolling as she squeezes her hair again with the damp towel before stepping towards the bed. “I’ve slept better when you’re there. And I don’t want to talk about it, and if you’ve got your satisfied wolfman face on it’s gonna get elbowed in the middle of the night.”

Dyson’s hands lift before tossing his pillow back on the bed. “I’ll just get changed then,” Kenzi nods, and he moves. “Drink your water.”

By the time he’s found a tee shirt and sweats, changed, and come back with his own water, Kenzi is unconscious and snoring, face pressed into a pillow,  _ his _ pillow and he knows her scent will stay there long after she’s gone back home. He takes the empty water bottle from her hand before settling next to her and breathing in that oh-so-human scent that he’s come to value, and pretends like his wolf doesn’t howl in shameless satisfaction to have her in his bed. 

  
  


…

Iv. 

They don’t talk about it. 

Waking up curled around Kenzi with his face buried in her hair should be enough to talk about, but it’s interrupted by the phone ringing and Bo needs their help. Kenzi offers Dyson a serious look that speaks volumes before she’s rolling out of his bed, and he’s on his feet. They swing by the clubhouse for new clothes and they’re off. 

They should have talked about it. 

“I can’t fix this by myself,” Dyson’s hands are pressed over the wound at Kenzi’s shoulder, trying to stem the flow of blood as Lauren leans over her. His grip is iron tight, gripping with the fabric of his shirt, but he can still feel blood starting to coat his hands. Smell it as her face contorts in pain. “We have to get her to the clinic. Can you carry her without taking pressure off the wound?”

“Here,” Tamsin steps up and Dyson has to keep his growl at bay as she slides her hands beneath his, pressing down hard enough for Kenzi to whimper. The Valkyrie shoots him a hard look. “Play who’s got the bigger teeth later. Pick her up and get her in the car.” 

Her gaze is fierce and dangerous and Dyson shoved his wolf down because she’s right and with Tamsin’s grip, he can lift her, and they move together. The trip to the clinic doesn’t take long, but it’s nerve-wracking and now that his hands aren’t gripping her shoulder, Kenzi’s hand grips them instead, though her grip isn’t strong. Just enough to show that she’s awake. 

Lauren allows Dyson and Tamsin in the operating room, if only because she needs the extra hands and they don’t have time to argue. One of her assistants stops Bo when she arrives trying to demand entrance, still bloody, but they’re almost done. They all remember the basilisk venom, and how they’re all sure Kenzi would rather go home, but Lauren insists on at least one night in the clinic. She’d need surgery and stitches and she’ll be in a sling until the stitches heal. 

Bo hovers at Kenzi’s side, the human asleep in the hospital bed as Tamsin and Dyson hover around the edges of the room. 

“You’re not subtle, you know,” Tamsin’s gaze slides to him, lips pressed as her brows lift in haughty expectation of denial. “I’ve even lowered myself to betting with Vex when the two of you would finally make a move. She might be young, Dyson, but that’s clock’s ticking. As a general rule humans only live once.”

Dyson keeps his expression closed, gaze fixed on Kenzi, her chest rising and falling. Sharp blue eyes narrow on him, stepping a little closer. “Have you? Made a move on Bo’s human?”

“Kenzi is nobody’s human, Tamsin. Now back off.”

“Holy shit,” she laughs a little too loud, earning a look from Bo and she quiets herself. “You made a move on the human. Oh my gods, you did. The Mesmer owes me forty bucks, you dog.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Tamsin. Don’t you have something better to do?”

She offers him a sharp look, grinning as she does, voice lowered. “Dyson and Kenzi sittin’ in a tree, f-u-c-k-i-n-g,” he snarls as she takes a dancing step back as she huffs out a laugh, moving to Bo. “Come on, Bo. You need to heal, and probably a few drinks. Dyson’s not going anywhere, and he’s not going to let anything happen to Kenzi.”

Bo turns dark eyes on him, swallowing hard. “You’ll stay with her? You’re okay?”

He’d had a chance to wash the blood off of himself, and he’s changed into spare hospital scrubs, and he nods to Bo. “Go, I’ll stay with her.” Bo probably should, but he shoves that thought down hard. Stomps it down under a heel and grinds it into dust. He steps forward to Kenzi’s side, finding the chair. “We’ll be here, Bo. There’s nothing more to do here, and you can’t protect her if you’re hurt.” 

The smile Bo offers him is tight, but she nods and Tamsin offers a grin over her shoulder as she trails Bo from the room. Dyson watches them go, his hand finding Kenzi’s arm without thinking about it. His attention turns to the human completely as she stirs slightly. Not awake, but more aware. He shifts, taking her hands between his own to press a kiss to her knuckles. “You can’t go like this, Kenzi. Not protecting me,” he swallows, watching her chest move up and down slowly, matching his breathing to her own. “I need to hear you complain about the scar that’s going to leave and tell me how I owe you a new pair of boots for the blood-soaked ones. I am sorry, but I don’t think you’ll be able to wear those again.”

He sighs, forehead resting against their combined hands, startled a little at the hoarse laugh from the bed. “They- They were pretty much filled with blood before. Definitely gonna need some new ones, D.” 

He just smiles at her, letting out a breath. “I’ll take you shopping. Anything you want.”

“If you follow that up with the words ‘within reason’ you’ll seriously break my heart. Probably set my whole recovery process back beyond repair.”

His head shakes. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She smiles softly, just a little as she does. “We should talk. About the whole Mack daddy of bro code violations that happened last night.” She winces a little, sitting up a little as she does. Dyson doesn’t argue, just sits up to let her use the grip on his hands to support herself. “That was some hardcore, if wine hadn’t decided to put the cock block on things, I’m pretty sure there would’ve been some K-Bang on the couch in front of all that boxing equipment. And while the Drunk Kenz was all over that, sober Kenz has some reservations, and I’m pretty sure you might too?”

Dyson sighs, breathing out as her hand squeezes his. “Kenzi, you know better than anyone that I love Bo,” she nods, blue eyes tracking his face slowly. “And I will always love Bo. But not having my love changed some of my perspectives. The love I’ll always have for her is different. And you are one of the most important people in my life Kenzi. Not a token human, never a liability. Because you're you, Kenzi, and you have saved my life many times.” 

“So,” her words are slow, cheeks a little flushed, though he’s sure if anyone asked she’d tell them it was pain medication in her drip. “When DocMagic Pants releases me if we go ahead and lay one on you again, preferably sober and without being cockblocked by wine…?”

He laughs quietly, leaning on the side of the bed. “I would probably tell you I’ve not often been called a gentleman often, and while you more than deserve a proper date, if we hadn’t been interrupted last night, I would have taken you on the couch. And on the floor. And maybe, if you were up to it then the bed and the shower.”

A snort pulls from her, smiling though she winces al title at the pull to her body as she laughs. “If I’m up to it? Just you wait, wolfman. I am going to blow your fae-ing world,” he offers her a grin that’s shamelessly wolffish. Kenzi’s eyes narrow on him, pointing with the hand still gripped between his. “Don’t give me the big, bad wolf, oh what big teeth you have look.”

“But it’s all the better to eat you with. And I don’t think you’ll find much reason to complain.”

Her lips part, gaze a little wide on him as she lets out a breath. “Well, fae me.”

….

  
  


v.

Getting to watch Kenzi go undercover is always an impressive feat. The delinquent camp is no exception. She’s in her snarky element, always on her toes and ready with witty responses and the wide-eyed challenge that just begs him to throw her up against a wall and make good on the promises he’d made while she was in Lauren’s care. 

They’d taken a step back, though, letting Kenzi heal and taking the time to talk to Bo, rambling about banging Bo’s former beau meant long conversations and lots of wine. 

He had caught her, before leaving the clubhouse, hands on her hips and pressed against a clubhouse wall to kiss her slowly. There’d been permission there, and it’s too much to resist after so long. Her arms loop at his shoulders, leaning into the touch as his hands come up to cup her cheeks. His hand tucks under her chin as he pulls away, gaze serious on her. “Take care of yourself, Kenz.”

She’d just grinned at him, scraping nails over his beard. “I’m in my element, DMan. I trust you’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours.”

Then she pats his cheek and she’d been off in a flash of dark hair and high heels. Dyson doesn’t bother to resist the urge to watch her go, listening to her shout ‘Bobo, let’s go-go show this bitch who’s boss!” Maybe he’ll question later when that humanity became so endearing. 

  
  


…

  
  


Lauren is safe, though the same can’t be said about her relationship with Bo, and Dyson genuinely does not expect the knock to his door. The rapid-fire text updates from Kenzi implied a girls’ night of drinking and bonding. 

So when the knock comes, it finds him shirtless, hands wrapped from his assault on the boxing back in the open space. Opening the door to find Kenzi, hands spread to either side of his doorway and looking at him seriously is a surprise. Her head tips, shifting her weight in high, high heels as her gaze sweeps down his body before coming back up to his face.

“So, I talked to Bo,” she nods firmly, shifting her weight to straighten, stepping into Dyson’s space. 

He doesn’t move, looking down to meet her gaze as he does. “That so?”

“That’s so,” she nods, lips pressed together as her hand comes to pat his chest, taking a deep breath as she lays her palm on sweat-slick, warm skin. “And she is of the very firm mind that the fact that we aren’t on the bang train yet is a damn shame,” she bites her lower lip for a moment, head tipped as she looks at him, closing the little bit of space between them as his hands find her hips. “We have Bo’s blessing to get it so on. Many times and in so many different positions. So the fact that neither of us is naked yet is actually a crime, not that I can complain about the view, honestly DMan-“

He cuts off her ramble with lips pressed against her own, curling his fingers in her hair as he pulls her into the loft fully before backing her up against the door at her back. His hands catch under her thighs, shifting to pick her up until he’s supporting her weight like it’s nothing, and her legs wrap around his hips. Graceful to slide his hands over her body, her ass in those tight, tight jeans finally in his hands, and he drags his hand up her sides, hands big enough to nearly fit all the way around her petite frame. She gasps quietly as his hips press into hers, sweat pants doing nothing to hide where he’s hard for her. 

“Fuck, Kenz,” his voice is a low growl as he breaks the kiss to press into her neck with teeth, leaving a very intentional mark as she squirms against him, heels knocking against the back of his thighs. 

Her head falls back, almost knocking against the door before his hand slides against the base of her skull to cradle it there. “That’s kinda the point wolfman. Unless you’re planning on doing it right here and now.”

“I could, you know,” his hips roll against hers, pulling her against him as she gasps and squirms. “Fuck you, just like this. Leave your weight entirely in my hands to move. Take my pleasure and give you yours, entirely at my mercy.” She shivers at the words, hands gripping his shoulders with nails that dig in. When he shifts back from the possessive mark he’d left on her neck, his eyes are a bright amber. Her heart rate skyrockets, but he can’t scent anything but lust on her skin as her hands touch his face. 

“That’s so fucking hot. But sex standing up is never half as fun as it seems,” her head still rests in Dyson’s hand as he massages the back of her skull. “You can show off next time. Couch?”

Dyson leans forward, catching her in a kiss and stepping away from the wall. Her weight pressed against him easily, allowing his hands under her thighs to keep her aloft until he reaches the couch. Sitting easily lets her straddle his lap, body pressed against his. The kiss breaks for him to work at the half corset around her waist, growling at the fabric until it gives way beneath claws to come away and be tossed aside. Then his hands are sliding beneath the long sleeve shirt to pull it away from her body, leaving her in a black bra. 

“You know that thing unzipped, right?” Her voice is breathless, pupils wide and dilated as she looks at him. A hard sound pulls from him, lips pressed to her chest as he slides his hands over bare skin, cupping her sides, supporting her ribs in his hands as her back arched into the touch of his teeth teasing her skin. Fingers curl in his hair slowly, head tipped back as she gasps, squirming in his lap. “Right, yeah, not fast enough. And I still somehow have more clothes on than you.”

Not that Dyson takes that as a complaint as she grips him against her chest. Teeth leave a steady line of marks down the center of her chest, between perky breasts still covered with the bra. But her words do spur him on, working the clasp of the bra at her back, and she only lets go of him when he’s tugging the straps down her arms, and he leans back to look at her. 

His hands slide up her body to cup her breasts, gaze intense on her to the point that she’s flushed. His hand comes to cup her cheek, thumb swiping over her lower lip. “You are so fucking gorgeous.” 

Blue eyes roll slightly, head shaking as Kenzi flushes. Hands draw down his chest, giving a shuddering little breath as agile fingers pinch her nipples slowly. “Flattery gets you everywhere, DMan. We all know you’ve got the hots for the Kenz,” her head shakes a little, swallowing as her hands come to his cheeks. “But we know you’ve gotten your socks rocked by Bo’s succubus… everything.” She taps his nose lightly, offering a smile that’s just a twist of her lips. “I’m—-“

“If you say ‘only human’ I’ll be forced to put you over my knee,” Kenzi flushes again at the words, and Dyson grins, nuzzling her neck as he does. “Seems like you might like that a bit too much to make that a threat. You are so much more than ‘only human’,” he shifts a little, catching her lips again in a slow kiss that leaves her shivering against him as his hand grips her ass through tight jeans. 

The kiss breaks as she lets out a breath, shifting to look at him with wide eyes. “If you rip these, I’m gonna be pissed, D. Let me just,” words are fast, rushed as she nearly scrambles back off his lap to work her belt open, and then the button on her jeans before she’s cursing and bending over to work on her boots because there’s no getting the jeans off without getting those off first. 

And Dyson watches her. Shamelessly. The pull of bone and muscle beneath her skin as she moves, dark hair falling messily over her shoulders as she works the boots off, one after another tossed to the side, and then shimmies out of her pants. Peals, more like, the fabric nearly painted on and well appreciated. By the time she’s stripped down to the itty bitty black scrap of a thong, he’s gripping himself through the sweats, and she blushes down to her chest. 

“If you’ve got some weird undressing kink, it’s only fair if you tell me now,” her arms crossed at her stomach, chin tucked a little. 

Dyson’s head shakes a bit, reaching to touch her, gripping her hand to pull her until she stands between his knees. Hands trail up her legs, warm palms pressed to her hips and then her sides. “You,” he leans forward to kiss her stomach, making her shiver as her hands curl at the back of his neck. “Are fucking gorgeous.”

He doesn’t give her a chance to argue, pulling her back into his lap and catching her in a slow, slow kiss to curl fingers in her hair. It settles her nearly bare body against his, even just the rub of his sweats against his inner thighs enough to make her shiver, warm all over and feeling heat pool between her thighs, and Dyson can smell it on her skin. He breaks the kiss, head tipped to her neck. “One day I’m going to lay you out in my and eat you out until you can’t come anymore,” he grins as she gives a squeaks, both hands landing on her ass to tuck her body against him, feeling where he’s hard, the sweats doing nothing to hide how impressively endowed he is, and she gasps into his mouth. 

“One day, promises, promises,” she grins, breath only a little shaky. “One day I’m going to sit you down on this couch and you’re going to let me blow you until you can’t anymore,” he growls against her throat, fingers working into the waistband of his sweats as she sits up a little to start to tug them down. “But right now, you’re going to fuck me. On the couch. And on the floor. And if you’re up to it the shower, and maybe your bed.”

The words parroted back at him make Dyson laugh, low and deep as her fingers wrap around him. “I don’t think there’s a question of what I’m up for, Kenzi,” the growl of her name makes her visibly flush as he draws hands up her back. And then he’s standing with her weight easily, moving to his bed in easy strides, and Kenzi will forever deny the yelp that escapes her as he tosses her to the bed. By the time she’s sitting up again, he’s stripped out of his sweats and her gaze drinks him in fully, absolutely no question about how  _ up _ he is for the situation. 

Another shocked noise pulls from her as he grips her thighs to lay her flat on the bed, kneeling between the spread of her thighs. He nuzzles into the crease of her hip, just teasing over the edge of her thong, licking her skin slowly and just baring tasting her through the fabric. “You smell so fucking good,” he rubs the scruff of his bread against her inner thigh as she gasps, curling fingers in his hai slowly. He licks her again though the fabric, tongue working against her until they’re soaked in his saliva and her own wetness as her body arches in the arousal. His tongue drags firmly over her clit, making her whole body jump beneath him. “You taste even better.”

His hands grip her as she twists under him, keeping her still as she arches and presses into his mouth as he works her. Muscles flex under skin, hips rolling with a history of dance that she almost never acknowledges, graceful, even when she’s pushed to shivering desperation. A hand slaps at his shoulder, breath hitching with her voice as she feels heat pool in her, curling at the base of her spine. 

“Dy-Dyson! Fuck!” Her voice explodes from her, followed by slow curses as he slides a finger along the edge of her panties before pressing slowly into her. Tight, so tight, but wet and open for him as she gasps and twists, slapping at his shoulder again. “No, no I’m going to come and the first time I come with you, you should be inside me.”

And that’s an argument that Dyson can’t actually take any issue with, other than wrestling himself away from the taste of her on his tongue, and the urge to take her release as well. But, he manages, claws tearing through her thong to leave it in shreds as he kisses his way up her body until their lips can meet, hand sliding under the back of her neck to pull her closer. She gasps, arching into him, legs wrapping around his hips to roll her own up against him, feeling his hard cock drag against her core. 

Breath escapes her as Dyson shifts, rolling her under him until they’re both on hands and knees. “I’m going to make so many dog jokes about this, wolfman,” the joke comes, but it’s gasped out as her head falls forward, dark hair falling over bare shoulders as they roll and she settles her weight. Dyson grunts in response, and he rolls his hips forward against her slowly, cock sliding over her core to make both of them shiver with it. Then he’s shifting just slightly, gripping himself and pressing forward. She’s so, so tight, and it takes careful and unsteady rolls of his hips to thrust into her completely. Kenzi’s swearing in Russian, dropping from her hands to her elbows on the bed to arch her back. But he’s listening to her carefully and none of the words spilling freely from her lips are stopped or even slow down. Her body opens up to him, hips rolling back against him as her body opens to his thrusts. 

He growls  _ low _ and deep in his chest, hands fitting at her waist, thumbs dragging up her spine as his body pressed to her back. A hand draws across her chest and under the opposite shoulder to pull her back against him. She gasps, hand flying to his arm to hold on as her head lifts against him, feeling breath hot against her cheek as his beard rubs against her neck. 

“Dyson,” her voice is low, quietly shameless as she gasps and presses back against him, and the use of his name has him gripping her body against him more fully as his hips draw back and roll against her, hips pressing against her ass enough to bruise. Her head turns, gaze wide and pupils dilated as she searches out his face. Meeting his eyes with a quiet desperation, and using the difference in their heights to catch him in a slow kiss, her hand releasing his arm to cup his cheek. It’s as slow and steady, like his initial thrusts into her. A sloppy drag of lips and tongues, shamelessly possessive before she breaks the kiss to look at him. Her gaze is serious in a way that he’s seen when she’s going into battle, breathless and flushed. “Dyson. Fuck me.” 

And that? That he can absolutely do. He growls into a final kiss, feeling her shiver against him before it breaks and he let her drop back against the bed. Kenzi lets her arms fold again at the elbows, and she lets out a breath as he tugs her hips until she drops to the bed under him on her stomach. He grips a pillow from the top of the bed to lift her hips a little and helping to settle that beneath her hips, adjusting as she does as well. Hands curl in the sheets beside her head, shifting so blue eyes can find him over her shoulder as his fingers tangle in her dark hair. 

And then he moves. 

With his knees settled between hers, one hand in her hair and one on her hip, he complies with her request and fucks her. Steady and hard, thrusting into her until she gasps and arches under him, grasping at the sheets and remaining pillows at the top of the bed. Dyson shifts his grip to her waist, pulling her back to meet him as she allows him to move her. Sharp lines of her shoulder blades drag beneath her skin with panting breaths, Russian words falling from her lips as she squirms beneath him as much as she can while he moves over her. 

Quietly desperate breaths pull from her, a hand reaching behind her to drag nails over his hip where she can reach. 

“Are you going to come for me, Kenz?” His voice is a low growl, shifting to slide his hand under her body, fingers finding her clit and making her whole body jump back against him with a gasp. “That’s it. I can feel it,” his voice is low, hips working harder against her as he feels the heat curling under his skin as well. Whatever her response might have been is muffled, and he can imagine her biting into the sheets in some attempt to stifle the sound. Some other time he looks forward to pinning her down and making her howl for him. 

For the moment, he doesn’t comment. Just drags her hips back against his thrusts to draw steady fingers over her clit, feeling her whole body clench around him. She shouts something he doesn’t quite catch, swearing to Russian gods as she arches and gasps, her whole body tensing and riding out waves of pleasure as she works her body under him. He stills eventually, leaning over her back as she catches her breath slowly, feeling little tremors inside her where he’s still hard. It’s easy to roll them both to the side, giving a soft chuckle when she spits out a chunk of spit-soaked sheets, breathing hard as his hand drags up her side. 

“You didn’t come,” words are slow, hips wiggling back against him and encouraging a moan into her hair. 

He breathes out a growl, head shaking. “I thought you might appreciate a break before round two.”

He laughs softly into her neck as she gasps and jerks against him. The motion makes them both groan, and Dyson fits a hand over her stomach to press her against him and still. It takes a moment and she catches her breath. “With anyone else, I’d accuse you of showboating, but you really just say that like it’s normal, don’t you?” 

He takes slow moments to pull out of her carefully, pulling back to roll her to her back to meet her lifted brows. She leaves room for him to settle between her thighs, cock rubbing against her body slowly. “I’m not a random twenty-something who hopes you come and falls asleep as soon as he does,” his elbows rest on either side of her head, looking down at her as she loops her arms around his shoulders. “And I do like watching you use my name while you fall apart under me.” 

Blue eyes roll, but she does flush at the words, giving a gasp as his hips roll and the head of his cock enters her slowly. “That so?” She swallows slowly, feet pressed to the bed to arch against him more. He can see where his fingers have already begun to leave bruises on her sides as he sits up a little to look down the lengths of their bodies, Kenzi’s fingers tangling in his hair as he thrust into her slowly. “ _ Fuck _ , Dyson.” 

And his name on her lips again him leaning down to kiss her again, hands sliding up to catch hers, pinned down by her head as her knees curl at his hips slowly, a heel knocking against the back of his thigh. The kiss breaks, just barely as he moves faster against her, watching dilated blue eyes from up close. Her fingers flex around his, hips lifting to roll against him, clenching in a steady roll of her body. It makes his thrusts stutter a little and she offers a smile when he releases her pinned hands to grip the sheets by her head. “ _ Dyson _ ,” she breathes out slowly, licking her lips and licking his as well, no space between them. Her nails draw up his back as he moves against her faster, ducking her face into her neck as he does. “Fuck, Dyson. Come on. Fuck me.”

He does, moving harder against her, releasing his grip on the sheets to draw his arm under her back to pull her up against him. The arch of her back presses him deeper and her nails drag up his skin, holding him close as she trembles under him. He snarls into the skin of her neck as his hips press into her body, hitching with a gasp as he shudders with the force of his orgasm as he spills into her. Her back arched under him, shouting out his name again as his hips press into her. She’s still shuddering on the edges of her orgasm before, and feeling his teeth pressing into her neck send her over the edge again, breathless beneath him. 

It takes a while for either to move beyond unsteady breaths, and Kenzi’s hands occasionally dragging down his back in slow motions. Eventually, Dyson pulls away from her, letting his weight drop to her side with an arm draped over her waist. Blue eyes meet, and she grins, tapping fingers under his chin lightly. “So, that’s what happens when The Kenz uses your name, huh? I’ll have to keep that in mind.” 

Dyson’s brows lift at her, shifting to lean up on an elbow to look at her. “Are you planning on exploiting that?” 

Her shoulders lift a little, fingers coming to scratch lightly at his beard as she does. “Maybe,” her fingers curl to press through his hair slowly, letting nails scrape over his scalp. “Only in emergencies. I think wolfman about covers it for the rest of the time."

He just smiles at her easily, leaning in for a slow kiss. "Come on. I'll order a pizza and we can shower." 

She snorts. "If you want me to move, you're going to be carrying me while I relearn how to use my legs. Not that my feet have touched the floor much tonight, so you might have set a dangerous president there." 

  
  


….

And the one time…

  
  


It's undeniable that Hale's death had been a punishment for all of them. Kenzi might have been the original target of Massimo's anger, but with Hale, he was able to hurt her, and Dyson and that wave of pain rippled out to everyone around them. 

Dyson hadn't taken it well and Kenzi couldn't blame him. He'd said goodbye, before shifting and taking off. 

And Kenzi knew he needed it. But they needed him too.  _ She _ needed him. Hiking out into the woods on her own with Trick's handy guidance spell wasn't Bo's favorite plan from her, but Kenzi had been calm and sure and taken her backpack into the woods. Now she’s three days in, and sleeping on the ground takes her back. She pauses in a clearing, running a hand through her hair as she pulls the magic compass from her pocket, flipping it open to show the ghostly form of a pacing wolf, seeing it run out in front of her. 

“If someone on the Pirate of the Caribbean team wasn’t fae, I’m calling bullshit,” the words are mumbled to herself. It’s a different compass than the one she’d almost been eaten over to get their memories back, but she’s sensing a distinct theme that she’s not sure she appreciates. “Come on Captain Sparrow, don’t fail me now.”

Suddenly the wolf’s form comes charging back, bounding through the trees back to her, circling before running off again. 

Kenzi follows, taking off through the trees at a sprint. She has to resist the thought that this is the moment in a horror movie when the girl in the woods doesn’t see that root and sends herself flying into the shrubbery with a sprained ankle and the masked killer comes out calmly from behind a tree and neatly bisects her. That is not a helpful thought and she does not need to go down that road. 

When the wolf stops, the clearing is small, and Kenzi’s panting, hands on her knees as she looks around for familiar fur. “D? Come on, if the wolf is spirit just found a familiar tree to pee on, I’m going to have to have a real long talk about priorities,” as blue eyes scan the area around her, she’s worried that’s actually true and the magic failed. Because she’s human, or Dyson really doesn’t want to be found or… Or, she doesn’t quite know. 

Then he’s there, uncurling from what might pass for a den, large form shaking off dirt and leaves with a shiver of fur. Amber eyes watch her impassively, and Kenzi sighs softly as she sets her heavy hiking bag to the side and crouches where she stands. It’s tempting to run to him, to curl her fingers into soft fur because fuck, she’s missed him. But, she waits, crouched low in the leaves and grass to wait for him. Another shake and the wolf moves to her slowly, nosing into her hands, and pressing his head into her chest. She sighs, wrapping arms around him. 

“Gods, Dyson, I’m so sorry. I messed up, and I believed he could actually make me fae and I just didn’t want to be the weak human who always had to be saved,” Her face presses into the scruff of his neck as his head curls across her shoulder. “It got so out of control and I can’t believe I  _ forgot _ I gave him…” 

Dyson chuffs, head shaking as he rubs a furry cheek against her own. And, in one smooth motion, she’s clinging to a very naked Dyson. A grumbling sound pulls from him that’s still mostly wolf, but he rubs his hands up her back slowly as he breathes into her hair. Her fingers dig into his back, adjusting to human-shaped Dyson as she tucks her face into his neck. “It wasn’t your fault, Kenzi,” she can hear him swallow hard, dragging her hands up his back to hold him closer. “It’s not, Kenzi. I promise you. I just needed time.”

Time is different as the wolf, so he can’t be entirely sure how long he’s been gone, but Kenzi’s scent filling his nose reminds him of what he’d left behind. Kenzi swallows, pulling back a little to look at him seriously, eyes a little red. “I know it’s only been a month, and you deserve as much time as you need, but the world’s kind of going to hell, Dyson. We need you,” she swallows slowly, hands coming to his cheeks. “I need you.” 

He takes long moments to take her in, hands on her shoulders. “Are you wearing actual hiking boots?” 

Kenzi snorts, and she doesn’t press the issue of giving him time. “Damn right. Sensible footwear, just for you,” her brows lift, laughing softly as she does. “And the dark circles aren’t makeup. This is genuine, sleeping in the woods alone Kenz. I haven’t been camping in fucking years, D.”

His hands cup her cheeks as his head shakes. “You shouldn’t have come alone. There are more dangerous things in the trees than wolves.”

Kenzi shrugs easily. “Protection charm. Kind of nifty. Not as nifty as the tracking spell, but…” she trails off, watching him as she chews on her lower lip. “I didn’t know how you’d be. I’m already here to ask you to come back.” 

A sigh pulls from him, head shaking again. “Even more reason you shouldn’t have come to a wolf alone. I took a wolf’s form for a long time. I could have been feral.”

“Well, shit, D. You’re sitting out here, bare-assed in the woods,” her lips curl a little in a smile. “If you’re not freezing, you might be a little feral.”

Dyson lets out a breath, smiling softly to give a gentle laugh, leaning to kiss her forehead gently before resting his against her own. “Cold doesn’t bother me as much, so I can’t say I noticed. But we should get you home. I can feel you shaking.”

“I’m Russian, we shake,” she smiles at the words, drawing a small laugh from him as well as she runs hands through her hair. “Besides, it’s too late. Sun’s setting and it took me three days to find you. The hike back will take at least a day knowing where we actually are and not following a wolf spirit from a compass. But we’re going to have to build a fire and camp out tonight. I’ve got everything for it. I even have clothes for you if you want them. Or like, a different campground, or den or, you know, whatever other wolfman approved space you might have. I’m about ready to eat and settle down.”

“There’s a better clearing a bit away from here. It’s a couple of miles if you can make it? I can lead better as a wolf, but I’ll make sure you can follow me.”

She nods easily, standing slowly to run a hand through her hair, tugging it back into the rough ponytail she’s kept it in. She needs to brush it, but it can wait. “Lead on, DMan. I’ll be right behind you.”

Dyson catches her cheeks in his hands as he stands as well, waiting for just a moment for her to look up to him before leaning down to catch her in a slow kiss. Her fingers wrap around his wrists to hold on lightly as she arches into him. He breaks the kiss slowly, staying close to her as his thumbs stroked her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to leave you, Kenzi,” his voice is gentle, and she takes a breath to look up at him through her lashes. A finger presses to her lips when she goes to tell him she knows. “It was impulsive and unfair to you. You deserved more than just goodbye.”

Her head shakes, squeezing his wrists gently as she smiles at him. “Dyson, I get it. I promise. It’s okay,” She leans up on her toes to kiss him again slowly. “Come on. Let’s get settled before it gets dark.”

…

  
  


Two nights of experience under her belt and Kenzi was able to get her tent up in record time. By the time Dyson had managed to dress in the clothes she had brought for him, she has the tent set up, and she’s begun to set up the fire pit. 

“You never cease to amazing me, you know that?” Her brows lift a little at his as she strikes a match to light the fire, dropping it when the fire is lit. 

“Just a street kid,” her shoulders lift as she stands, hands on her hips. “You should see me grill with a shopping cart and tin foil. Tonight, I actually have a camp stove and some food stolen from Trick instead of the grocery store.”

His arms wrap around her from behind as she straightens, chin resting on her head. “I’m sure Trick didn’t even notice,” a huff pulls from her as his fingers trails over her stomach slowly, inching under her shirt. “From the first day, you managed to track us to the old factory to save Bo. Charged in without a second thought."

She snorts, leaning into him as his hand spreads over her stomach. "Oh, I had second thoughts. And third thoughts. Fourth, even."

Dyson laughs low in her ear. "But you still charged in. Saved her."

"And so began the saga of the unaligned succubus," she laughs with a soft sigh as his hand slides over her sports bra. "And you really cannot talk about Bobo while you're feeling me up." She shifts, turning in his arms and letting his hands slide over her skin. Her hands rest on his chest, looking up at him. She can remember the body swap fiasco and how empty it had felt without his love. The pain now, losing Hale, she can't quite imagine. 

She can also feel that he's hard in his jeans where he's pulled her close against him, warm hands spanning her sides and just a kind of amber in his gaze. So, she puts the concern to the side a bit, offering a smile up at him. 

"You sure you didn't go a little feral out here?" Her brows lift at him as his hands slide up her back, making sure there’s no space between them. He lifts a suggestive brow at her and she laughs, head tipped back just slightly to let him lean to kiss her. Her arms curl around his shoulders, dragging fingers through his hair. She can feel his physical restraint in the way he touches her, a tension under his skin. “You don’t have to hold back with me, DMan.”

Yeah, she’d had bruises the first time they’d had sex, and each time since. Pretty impressive bruises really, that she’d been able to trace and pinpoint the shapes of fingers in his grip, the scrape of teeth and claws decorating her skin with his marks. He’d apologized the first morning, pressing kisses to them, which had lead to more bruises and Kenzi wore each one with pride. 

His grip around her ribs tightens a little before relaxing. "You caught me. To the huntress go the spoils." 

A breath pulls from her, giving a soft laugh as her hands slide up to cup the sides of his neck. Her bows lift curiously at him, humming as she leans back slightly, supporting her weight in his hands. “That so? Does that mean I should mount you?” 

She’s teasing, mostly, but there’s a deep growl in his chest that sends heat pooling through her. Her throat works in a slow swallow, gaze searching him. “You’re going to have to be real clear on if that’s a good growl or a bad growl because it was way hotter than it had any right to be.”

It’s not necessarily a lack of confidence that makes her hesitate. When it comes to Dyson she’s well aware that she is not Bo and on a rational level, she’s more than okay with that. Yeah, her bestie’s wonder snatch can hypnotize all the boys and girls out of their secrets, but Kenzi has come into her own, and she has skills. But, she’s been around fae long enough to hesitate in the moment. He’s literally the big bad wolf, and that’s not typically a role that allows for much in terms of domination. 

He leans against her slowly, breathing a growl against the skin of her neck. “Good growl.” He offers another growl effort shifting to step back from her, sitting himself on a sleeping bag that Kenzi hadn’t gotten around to shoving in the tent. His brows lift at her, laying back on the ground with his hands tucked behind his head. 

For long moments Kenzi just stares at him, lips parted with a somewhat awestruck expression at that response. Her head shakes a bit at him, laughing as she moves forward. “You’re such a cliche. It’s a really good thing you’re pretty.”

Dyson’s brows lift at her easily, grinning brightly though he doesn’t move from his position. Blue eyes darken as they track her as she kneels over him, her hands sliding up the length of his stomach, under the shirt that she’s not entirely sure why he’d put on to begin with. He’s still hard, she can feel him between her thighs, pressed up again her as she settles her hips down again his, and he bucks up against her before he settles beneath her. Quiet breath pulls from her as she touches his skin, pushing his shirt up and over his head, his only movement to assist her as she moves, leaning down to kiss him as the fabric is tossed to the side. 

“I really fucking missed you, Dyson.”

Her eyes are wide and serious as they search his face from up close, nails dragging over the scruff at his cheeks and moving to curl more completely in his hair. His it hands slide over her hips, under her shirt to touch skin until his hands can bunch in the fabric. “You have extra clothes for the hike back home?” She blinks for a moment, before nodding, lips parting to speak, but the sound of tearing fabric cuts her off, and the shirt falls in tatters in his hands. He arches up, kissing her hard as he offers the same treatment to her sports bra. “I fucking missed you too, Kenzi.”

She breathing heavily, swallowing hard as she tosses the rest of the wasted fabric to the side before pressing close to him again, body arching with the drag of skin on skin slowly as his hands slide down to her hips, cupping her ass to drop her body against his in a slow roll before she’s getting hands between them to get his pants undone, moving to drag his pants down in rough, jerking movements that speak to impatience and he’s sure if she could have ripped the pants of him she would have. As it is, she jerks them down his legs, stopping at the untied boots to toss them to the side before dragging the jeans down and away, grinning because he hadn’t bothered with underwear and he’s hard, cock jerking against his stomach as his muscles flex and he watches her. 

It’s kind of like a race with herself to get her own hiking boots kicked off to the side, jeans following, and  _ sensible fucking underwear _ because she’s been sleeping outside and hiking and she will have time to impress him with her lingerie choices when they’re home and things are some version of okay again. 

She also wastes no time digging a condom out of her backpack, letting out a breath at the brows he lifts at her. “Don’t say a word, wolfman. I had no idea what I was going to find out here.” He’s not going to argue, and he’s arching into her hand as she smoothes the condom over his cock, stroking slowly until need takes precedent. 

Right now, she really just needs him, moving over him for a long kiss, pressing against him for a slow kiss before she shifts back, angling to rub herself against him slowly, hips rolling where she’s wet and he growls, gripping her thighs hard enough to bruise as she wraps fingers around him where he’s hard and desperate, eyes blazing between blue and amber and back again as he keeps himself still under her. 

Her eyes meet his as she lifts up a little, hips rocking down to take him inside her slowly. She’s wet, so wet, but tight and it takes work for her to move against him, hands pressed to his chest as he watches her. 

Dyson watches her with a barely restrained growl as he holds himself still. “Kenz—- Let me—-“

“No,” her voice is low, a little tight, but her head shakes as she watches him. “No, no it’s good. Just slow. It’s been a little while,” a breath pulls from her, hips rolling a little to take him deeper. “My boyfriend went a little feral and disappeared into the woods for a month.”

Dyson groans, but before he can work up the speech to apologize, her hips are rolling again and she’s settled her hips into the cradle of his. It makes him growl, hips bucking up against her before he can stop it. Kenzi trembles above him, hands on his chest as she rides the buck of his hips and watches him with wide, dilated eyes. Her hips lift a little to drop again, feeling his hands tense on her hips, and she does it again. Her weight drops forward to meet him in a kiss, stretched to meet their height difference, and his hands drag up her back, keeping her close with a hand that possessively grips the back of her neck. 

She arches, fingers curling through his hair as she gasps. She’s going to come, and she’d like to voice that but it comes out with a gasp, a soft shout against his lips as her body rocks over him, muscles tensing with the heat and pleasure steadily rolling through her. He’d barely touched her and she might marvel over that later, but she’s coming with parted lips and wide eyes.

Dyson watches her, breathless and in shameless awe as she comes for him, on him, arching over him as dark hair falls from her braid, sticking to her skin as her muscles shake, her nails digging into his chest as her head hangs forward. 

He gives her a minute, just watching as he drags his hands up her sides and she breathes hard and unsteady. Then he moves, Fingers curling in her hair and one hand on her back to roll then, shifting up and over so her back lands on the sleeping bag. It draws a startled sound from her, blinking up at him lazily as she cups his cheeks. 

“You didn’t come,” lazy words come as her knees curl at his hips, thighs warm against his body. “You really should.”

He nods, arms on either of her shoulders, muscles flexing as his hips press into hers. “I intend to,” words are a low, growled promise as he leans to kiss her, arms wrapping around his shoulders to press into each touch. “But, you’re going to come again first. After all,” he presses a grin to her cheek as her hips arch, body dragging against him. “Your boyfriend disappeared off into the woods for a month. Make you forget about the bastard.” 

She knees him in the side, laugh turning into a groan as he moves, body arching against him as his hips roll against herm tucking an arm under her lower back to pull her against him. It changes the angle of him inside her and makes her gasp, back arching as her head falls back. Dyson’s teeth set against the skin of her throat as he moves, shamelessly marring delicate skin. A primal declaration of  _ his,  _ and he growls low into her skin. To drive the point home, he growls out the word against her as he drags a hand between them. It requires him to move back, allowing some separation between their bodies, his mouth descending from her throat to take an erect nipple between his teeth and making her gasp helplessly. 

Fingers drag in his hair as her body arches under him, shuddering as her body quakes under him, hips rolling against him, unsteadily jerking against him as her calves press to the back of his thighs. She’s swearing, sweat making dark hair stick to her shoulders and neck and chest. Her back arches under him, legs tightening around him as she gasps, head falling back on the sleeping back as she pants under him. 

“Fuck, Dyson. You’re going to be the end of me,” her voice is low and rough, arching as she comes undone beneath him. Blue eyes lift just slightly from her chest to watch as she does, panting into her skin as she nearly writhes under him. Her short nails dragging over his shoulders push him from viewing. He’s not far behind, shoulders heaving as his body pressed into hers, growling low as blue eyes focus on him to clench around him, hips arching as her heels dig into his ass. 

His head drops to snarl in her neck as he stops to shudder, spilling into the condom as his muscles flex over her, breathing hard as he grips her hips, fingers flexing and attempting to relax because he knows he’s left bruises already. 

Her arms wrap around his shoulders slowly, petting his hair slowly as he does, curling fingers through the locks as he comes down slowly, and breathing into her skin. His hands release her hips to slowly slide under her shoulders, keeping him close as she settles with him between her thighs. Slow fingers trail the lines of his tattoo down his back without needing to look. A soft, hummed growl vibrates against her throat, making her giggle helplessly. 

“Can’t do that, Wolf Man. We gotta hike home tomorrow, and if you keep with that you’re gonna have to fuck me again until I can’t feel my legs. And then you’ll have to carry me home.” 

Dyson laughs easily, shifting to sit up a little, looking down at Kenzi, dark hair spilling out under her and lips curved in that brilliant smile that he adores. “I could, you know. Carry you back to town. You deserve it after the trouble you went through to find me.”

Her head shakes slowly, fingers coming up to cup his cheek. “I get it, Dyson. But, we need you. There have been… Developments,” Her heart jumps at the words, and he can hear he swallow. “It’ll be easier in person. And I’ll help you run away again when it’s all over. Hale left me his property in Spain. We can disappear for a while. Just… Not quite yet.”

Guilt laces her tone, and Dyson lets out a breath to drop and lean against her side. “I understand. I should have left a better way for you to contact me than hiking into the woods.”

“No, nope!” Kenzi sits up suddenly to give Dyson a serious look. “None of the noble warrior shit, D-man. You’re allowed to be in pain, and trust me, as much as it sucks not knowing where you were, I got it, you know? He was trying to kill me. And then he decided to hurt me by hurting you, and it’s all so fucked up.” Fingers push into her hair, swallowing as she does. “You deserve time to mourn, and I’m going to kick some fae ass for not letting you have it, you know?” She breathes out hard, swallowing with a sigh. “We’ll give you time to mourn Dyson. I promise. You can run around on the beach all wolf-like,” she holds up a hand, brows lifting. “And I know wolves might not be native to that area, but the Hale property is huge. If anybody tries to report you, we’ll just get their asses for trespassing.”

Dyson’s head shakes slowly, tugging her down against him without hesitation. “It’s alright, Kenzi. I am a noble warrior, Kenz. It’s in my blood. But,” his head tips easily, offering a short smile as he cups her cheek, pulling her in for a kiss. “I would like to see Hale’s Spanish estate again. It’s well protected from anyone with prying eyes.” Blue eyes are curious as he considers her slowly. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

She draws in a slow breath swallowing as she does. “It’s… Probably better if you see in person. And trust me, I could probably try to be more cryptic much, but the situation does that for me.”

A snort pulls from him, but he nods. “Then I suppose all I can do is wait and trust you.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and then her cheek, nuzzling there before his head shakes. “We should get into the tent. It’s a long hike tomorrow.” Kenzi just nods slowly, pressing up to kiss him again before sitting up. 

“Food first, then sleep. I’m fucking starving.” 

….

  
  


Dyson is just as shocked by Mark as the rest of them, reuniting with a son he’d never known about, but even Kenzi’s impressed with how well he takes the experience. It’s a long day without a doubt, but not a bad one. Kenzi’s seated on Dyson’s counter, showered and still bare of makeup, wearing a pair of fuzzy socks and one of Dyson’s tee-shirts that fits her like a dress. Her heels tap lightly against the side of the counter, head tipped as she watches Dyson make dinner. 

Mark, so, so young and never even shifted is still as the Dahl, taking his first breath in a long time without a hunter on his trail. While they might be putting off an extended out of country stay, Mark waved away their offers not to leave him alone for the night. Trick even assured them he could stay at the Dahl for the evening. Bo’s grin and elbow to her ribs aren’t subtle in the slightest, but Kenzi doesn’t mind. It’s been a long time, and as romantic as their night out in the woods had been, the notion of a real meal in his loft was incredibly appealing. 

Bright, bright pull eyes focus on him, head tipped as he moves comfortably through his kitchen. “So,” she speaks slowly, tapping nails lightly on the bar as he glances at her over a shoulder. “I guess this makes it pretty official.” 

“What’s that?”

There’s a pause as she smiles brilliantly at him, brows lifting. “I’m officially dating a DILF.” Dyson pauses what he’s doing before tossing a piece of cooked pasta at her. Kenzi laughs, not bothering to dodge it as she laughs. He catches her around the waist before she can speak against, leaning down to kiss her with a hand under her chin. “Maybe it’s didf? Difa? Totally hot dad who wants to date me?”

Dyson’s eyes roll, kissing her again to cut her off. “How about wolf? Warrior? Dyson?” His brows lift a little at her. “D-man, even, if you insist.” 

She nods slowly with consideration, leaning to kiss him again. “All of those apply,” her arms wrap around his shoulders. “But you’re still a hot dad and we’re totally banging.” 

**Author's Note:**

> After scouring the internet for this ship, and reading pretty much everything I could find, I accepted that I wanted to sit down and write it for myself. It's been a long ass time since I put anything anywhere, but the mighty need was accepted, and now y'all get to deal with it.


End file.
